


I Know Places

by orphan_account



Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: Explicit Language, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23193349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A relaxing day at Coney Island turns into something Paul never expected.
Relationships: Peter Criss/Paul Stanley (KISS)
Kudos: 9





	I Know Places

“This place ain’t what it used to be, Paulie… I’m tellin’ ya, this beach used to be packed with people like sardines as far as the eye could see.”

Paul was fascinated by Peter’s stories, how he and his family would get up early on Saturdays, take the train to Coney Island and just eat sandwiches and swim all day. As he munched on a hot dog that he claimed tasted like no other hot dog in the world, the drummer talked of the good old days at the amusement park and how he practically wanted to live there as a kid. Paul could have listened to Peter talk for hours. He’d always felt that way.

“Now look at it. My favourite childhood rides graffitied by punk assholes and hardly nobody on the beach. People’re too afraid to come no more ‘cause of crime. People use to come from all over the _world_. Nobody was lookin’ for trouble, just a good time…” There was disappointment and frustration in Peter’s voice, and Paul frowned as he looked out across the ocean. He didn't think it was that bad. In fact, he'd had quite a pleasant day with his bandmate. He'd tried saltwater taffy for the first time, rode roller coasters and the carousel, and best of all, he hadn't been recognized. He squinted beneath his sunglasses, the sun shining directly in his eyes but providing a nice layer of warmth on his skin.

“There’s still people…plenty of ‘em.” The rhythm guitarist watched as some children built sandcastles while their parents relaxed in beach chairs. Close by were a group of sketchy teenagers smoking cigarettes and flicking the ashes in the water. Paul tried to picture what Peter had described, but it was near impossible. It sounded too good to be true, like some kind of paradise.

“Yeah but look at the fuckin’ filth!” Peter pointed at the trash in the sand. “Steeplechase ain’t here no more, everyone’s on drugs… I mean, there’s fuckin’ _bums_ sleepin’ on the boardwalk, Paulie! It’s fuckin’ heartbreaking…”

“Well, if you hate this place so much, why did you bring me here?” Paul hopped off of the railing, finally feeling the numbness in his ass from sitting for so long. He threw the rest of his strawberry ice cream cone in a trashcan before leaning over the bars, freezing and taking a moment to digest the sight below him. His eyes widened at the writing in the sand surrounded by shells of all different shapes, colours, and sizes.

“That’s why.” Peter joined him, preparing himself and already anticipating the dramatic reaction to his unexpected proposal. He rested his arm around Paul’s waist and pulled him close as the Starchild nervously glanced around. Paul began to panic when he noticed the group of teenagers again. "I'm honestly surprised the ocean didn't wash it away...or those little shits didn't fuck it up."

“Peter…” Paul shook his head in disbelief, walking away and smiling. It wasn’t from happiness, though. He wasn’t happy in the slightest. Why did Peter have to go and ruin a perfect day? The 25 year old hadn’t even considered marriage to a woman, let alone a _man_ , a man who was 7 years older than him and took drugs like it was vitamin C, a man who lost his temper on the regular and cheated on his ex-wife constantly. Paul was still trying to catch up with himself after the hectic Rock and Roll Over tour, busting his ass for the equally as hectic Love Gun tour, and preparing for the Alive II tour in less than 2 months. 56 shows, including 5 in Tokyo… a marriage just wasn’t practical. It couldn’t be done.

“I-...I can’t! Are you crazy?” He turned back to Peter, stopping himself from laughing once he saw the dangerous look on the drummer’s face. “It’s _illegal_ , Peter! I’m not gay and neither are you!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Paulie! I _knew_ you were gonna go there! I fuckin’ _knew_ it! You’re so fuckin’ predictable!” Peter’s voice got louder and louder as he got angrier, and if the sound of the crashing waves and kids playing in the ocean didn’t partially mask his yelling, the guitarist would have died from embarrassment. “You’re a _fag_ , Paul! Just accept it! Sure, you love pussy, but you can’t just fuckin’ pretend you don’t love dick, too, or has you ridin’ my dick every other day just been a hallucination? Please tell me ‘cause I’ll go check myself into the fuckin’ nuthouse right now!” The drummer was so close to the taller man that they were almost touching, and Paul began to feel tears sting his eyes. He never reacted well to Peter’s hot temper, and he hated that everything he was saying was true, but he wasn’t backing down.

“I _can’t_ , Peter!” Paul removed his sunglasses to wipe at his eyes. “It’s insane! What would my Mom and Dad think? What would the fans think? Gene and Ace?”

“You don’t love me, is that it? Y’know, I’m gettin’ real sick of tryna hold your hand and you slappin’ me away, or havin’ to kiss you on the cheek instead of your lips ‘cause you think we’re bein’ watched.”

“ _Of course_ I love you, Peter…” Paul sighed, but the drummer only jumped to more conclusions. 

“...Is it Ace?” He growled, “You two seem rather close lately… God, I’ll break his fuckin’ noodle legs…”

“Peter, it’s not Ace…”

“Tell me you haven’t slept together. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t sleep together on the last tour.” The drummer could have sworn he saw the celestial leave Paul's hotel room in a robe, but there hadn't been an appropriate time to confront him. Not until now.

Paul’s heart was in his throat, and he gulped. What was the point in lying? Peter would find out sooner or later… Besides, he could already see in his eyes that the drummer knew the truth. 

“I… W-we… We did.”

The rhythm guitarist flinched when Peter raised his hand, ready to slap his lover across the face. He was expecting that once the confession had left his mouth. Paul knew he wasn’t the only one to fall victim to his bandmate’s outbursts, but he also knew Peter had been a victim himself. His and Lydia’s abusive marriage had ended for a reason. They mistreated each other in every way possible, and Paul always had to hear all about it. He never thought he himself, though, would be the victim. Gene had told him numerous times to leave the drummer and find someone better, someone who would treat him right, but Paul loved him too much. He could never abandon Peter. Not after all he'd done for him, all he'd saved him from.

He opened an eye when he noticed Peter hadn’t struck him, but his arms remained shielding his face. Paul didn’t need to see Peter’s eyes under his sunglasses to know he was furious, that he may have spared the Starchild, but Ace definitely wasn’t safe from the Catman’s fury. He’d never met someone so protective, so passionate and possessive of what was his. It has its advantages, but at times like these, Paul worried for the safety of others, in this case, Ace, who he still had a great deal of love for. 

Peter sighed and lowered his arm, “I knew it… I fuckin’ _knew_ it. That fuckin’ bastard is dead!” 

Paul finally began to cry, but was it out of guilt? Out of fear of what Peter would do to the lead guitarist? He wasn’t sure, but his head was spinning out of control. This had all happened so quickly, and he didn't know for the life of him how to handle it. 

“Y’know,” Peter smirked, “I could fuckin’ turn you and that backstabbin’ schmuck into the cops for sodomy. That's serious jail time, Paulie.” 

“Peter, please!” The Starchild sobbed into his hands, not caring how much attention he was attracting. He couldn’t believe what venom was coming out of the drummer’s mouth. He couldn’t believe a threat of such magnitude could come from a man who was proposing to him only minutes before. He surely didn’t mean it… He was just jealous.

As angry as he was, though, Peter’s face softened when he noticed how distraught Paul was. The rhythm guitarist could hardly speak, gasping for air as he cried. He flinched again when the drummer reached out to cup his face, gently stroking with his thumb. _That_ was the Peter he knew, not the one who blew his gasket whenever he felt threatened and would take it out on the person he loved most. 

“Please don’t hurt him, Peter…” Paul whispered, begged as tears streamed down his cheeks. How was the band ever going to spend five months on the road together after this? It was going to be a bloodbath. "Don't do that to me...please..."

“Shhh, baby. Don’t worry about it... I-...I shouldn't have said that...” The drummer softly kissed his boyfriend on the lips, not giving a damn if anyone saw. He’d kick anyone’s ass who dared to interrupt or voice their opinion on his public displays of affection. “It’s you n’ me against the world, Paulie.” Peter pulled away, kissing away the last of the tears. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. Paul barely got to look at it as Peter began to slide it onto the taller man’s left ring finger, shimmying it down to the base. 

It was probably a woman’s, Paul thought, but he couldn’t deny how beautiful it was. The emerald cut diamond sat atop a rose gold band, encrusted with miniature diamonds along the sides. It must have cost the drummer a _fortune_ , and even though Paul hadn’t even agreed to marry him yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to take it off. It just felt right, like it was meant to be there on his finger. 

“I’m gonna buy us a big ol’ house in Manhattan, baby. A place we won’t be found, and nobody’ll bother us ever. You’ll be safe. No judgement, no crap from the media or our families…”

Paul looked down, shaking his head as his eyes welled up again. He could hardly think straight. Peter’s promises were nice, but how long before he broke them? How long before he abandoned him like everyone else? The Starchild was a lone ranger, destined to live his life without true love... Peter’s words were all too familiar.

“Let them say what they want. We won't hear it.” Peter reassured his lover, taking off his spoon necklace to place it around Paul's neck. “I’ll always be here to protect you.” The Catman lifted Paul’s hand to plant a kiss on it, “If I gotta leave KISS, if _we’ve_ gotta leave KISS… Whatever it takes for you to be happy, I’ll do it.”

Paul wiped away the wetness under his eyes without another word, replacing his sunglasses on his face and listening to the seagulls cawing in the distance. With one last kiss, his fiancé intertwined their fingers as they continued to walk the rest of the boardwalk and into the sunset.


End file.
